


Please Don't Forget

by NanakiBH



Category: South Park
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Blood and Gore, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Is Gay, Harm to Animals, Language, M/M, Mind Break, Romantic Friendship, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 17:28:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5751898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NanakiBH/pseuds/NanakiBH
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What is a friend, anyway?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Please Don't Forget

**Author's Note:**

> I sort of stumbled into this fic the same way I stumbled my way into this ship. I think it turned out alright. Despite my tags, I don't think this is as dark as some other stories I've read for this ship. It's not bleak. (This may be because I'm a Pollyanna like Butters and don't believe in sad endings.)
> 
> Might write more for these guys. Didn't expect to start my 2016 with South Park fanfiction, let alone this ship, but here we are...

The day began like any other. It wasn't too interesting.

While the other guys ran off on one of their schemes, Kenny stayed behind. Change of pace, he said. Honestly, he just didn't feel like dying that day, since he knew that his death always somehow factored into their plans whether they realized it or not. They could go have their fun and he was going to do his own thing and just... hope that death wouldn't find him.

He was still trying to figure out what it was that attracted death to him so frequently. It was probably in the terms of that pact his parents made with the cult, but whenever he tried to ask them about it, they pretended like they had no idea what he was talking about. They were dumb, but he knew they weren't dumb enough to forget about something like that. They were the only ones who had any idea that there was something strange about him, but they willfully refused to talk about it. They were probably ashamed, but they deserved more than shame for his suffering.

Well... Nah.

He only felt that way when he was dying. And when he thought about dying. Each time, he always reached a point where he was anticipating it, in a zen-like state of acceptance, but when the time came, it was always just as bad and he'd find himself wishing everyone else would just die so that they could know what it felt like.

That was unfair, though. He knew that.

If they died... There wouldn't be any point. They wouldn't live again to know how horrible it was. They would just pass on to wherever. Most likely Hell. And Hell wasn't even all that bad.

The best he could do was relax whenever he could.

While he was busy doing nothing, he got a call from Stan who told him that he was stuck with Kyle and Cartman somewhere in South America. They didn't know where. Hell if he knew how to help them, and he really didn't want to get involved, so he kindly told them to figure it out on their own and hung up. South America was dangerous, probably. Definitely not relaxing. Unless they bribed him, they weren't going to be seeing him.

So anyway, that was how he met up with Butters.

Unfortunately, Kenny knew that he was just as safe inside as he was outside, so he didn't mind stepping out. Without any money in his pockets, he wasn't sure what he planned to do, but getting out got him away from his parents' loud, drunken yelling, so that was something. Halfway down the street, he found Butters sitting on the sidewalk outside of his house.

He wasn't sure whether he should stop. There wasn't any reason to talk to him, but Butters looked up at him and gave him one of those friendly _'Oh, hey, Ken'_ s of his, so his feet gradually slowed on their own, and, before he knew it, he was taking two steps back so he could stand in front of him.

He greeted him with a mumbled 'hey' of his own, then tugged open his hood a little so he could talk properly.

“What're you doing on the sidewalk? If you sit this close to the street, you could get hit by a car.”

“Huh?” Butters blinked, eyes round and unassuming. “O-oh. Yeah, I s'ppose you're right... Thanks, Ken. I'm just not thinkin' much 'bout myself right now.”

Kenny was about to ask him what he was talking about when suddenly the front door of Butters' house opened, his dad on the other side.

“Butters, if you don't-” Mr. Stotch lowered his voice and stopped talking when he saw Kenny standing there with him. “Oh. Alright, good. Play with your friend and have fun. ...And if you don't have fun, you're grounded!”

On that strange note, the door was slammed shut.

“Dude, what was that about? You're seventeen. Why is your dad telling you to go out and play?”

Butters gave a hopeless groan. “Oh, I don't know. They said something about me missing my childhood and never growing up or something like that. I-it was really confusing. They think I'm depressed, so they told me to go outside and have fun, and if I don't have fun – well, you heard 'im. They're gonna ground me. Again.”

“You're seventeen,” Kenny repeated. “If they ground you, just sneak out. Who cares?”

“And go where?” Butters asked, throwing his hands down at his sides. “I wouldn't have any other place to go, and I don't even really like bein' outside anyway. M-maybe they were right about me missin' my childhood. I thought you guys were my friends, but who'd wanna have Cartman and those jerks as friends?”

Was that a dig? Kenny wasn't sure. Not like he could disagree with him.

Butters pulled up his knees and wrapped his arms around them. “Any time I hung out with you guys, w-why... Somethin' bad always happened to me, or I'd get made fun of, or...” He sniffled pitifully, halfway to tears already. “You're the only one who ever made any sense, Kenny, so maybe you can tell me. I don't really have any friends, do I? Y-you guys were never my friends, were you?”

“Hey, wait...”

That wasn't true.

He didn't hang out with Butters a lot, but that wasn't because he disliked him or anything. In fact, compared to the guys he actually _did_ call his 'friends', he would say that Butters was a really great person. He was kind and pretty smart and he was always nice to him and never got him in trouble. Thinking back, he couldn't remember a time when Butters was responsible for his death, so that definitely earned him some points. On the downside, he was naïve and super innocent in a way that was almost irritating, but... At the same time, that made him sort of appealing. Butters was the kind of kid he wanted to pester and tease.

That probably made him as bad as the other guys, but he was glad that Butters didn't seem to think so.

He was about to explain why Butters was wrong when, suddenly, the loud sound of a car horn cut him off.

Immediately, a switch flipped inside of him; that 'off' switch, the one that got flipped the second before dying. It always made it a little less painful if he abandoned all thought and didn't think about it. Getting hit by a car was one of the best ways to go. It was usually one of the fastest.

Right after he warned Butters, too. What was he doing, standing in the street like that? Was he just asking for it to happen?

The world didn't fade as he expected it to, though.

It was hard to disengage from that state after he'd already mentally accepted that he was about to die, so it took him a few seconds to even realize what happened. Two hands were tightly gripping one of his gloved ones. They let go, but he was wrapped strongly in a pair of arms not a second later.

That was Butters?

He was surprisingly strong...

He was loud, too.

The sound of his loud wailing gradually reached Kenny's ears as the world settled back in around him. “You almost died, Ken!” he was screaming.

Gently, Kenny placed his hands on Butters' arms and pulled him away. He wasn't all that surprised that Butters' parents hadn't come to see what all his yelling was about. It was just a shame. It was hard to say whose parents were worse between them.

Butters', probably. They didn't seem to have any idea how badly they'd screwed him up.

The Butters next to him who was crying and shaking wasn't any different from the kid he knew in preschool and fourth grade and freshman year. The problem wasn't whether he had a proper childhood, but that no one had ever shown him how to grow up. His parents always chose to ground him instead of bravely teaching him anything, and he and his friends always teased him and treated him like a kid, so a kid he remained.

That wasn't bad, though. That was what made Butters the only person in their entire town he could get sympathy from.

Kenny couldn't decide if that was selfish or if he was just trying to find the bright side of a situation that couldn't be turned around.

Either way, he was glad that there was someone who would cry that loudly if he got hit by a car.

“It's fine,” he said, moving them both back to sit properly on the sidewalk, well out of the way of the street. Knowing him, he could still get hit by someone even if he were 'safe' inside, so it didn't matter where he was, but it was important to keep Butters safe.

Butters still looked shaken up over it, his anxiety made worse by nearly witnessing his death. Even if he did die, it was a good thing Butters wouldn't remember, Kenny thought.

“I-it's not fine!” Butters insisted, rubbing at his eyes with the back of one of his sleeves. “What if you died, Kenny? You're the only guy in this whole gosh dang town who I can even talk to! Everybody else's lost their marbles or had no marbles to start with! This is always happening to me. I can't take it!”

“Wait, what's always happening to you?” Kenny asked, leaning back, resting his palms on the cold sidewalk pavement.

Butters sniffled and buried his face in his bended knees. “People're always dyin' around me. I don't mean to do it, but people always seem to die when I'm around. It's like God's playin' some kind of awful mean trick on me. It ain't funny! I hate it!”

Kenny was quiet for a second, thinking.

That sounded weirdly familiar, only a little different.

“Hey, dude, do you remember when I told you guys about my power?” he asked.

Tearfully, Butters lifted his head and turned to look at him. “Your power? Gosh, I don't know. I can't remember. It's be a while since we all played heroes and villains 'n' stuff. I don't see what that's gotta do with what we're talking about. M-maybe I'm dense, and maybe I'm gullible, but I'm not stupid. There aren't any magic powers that'll help me outta this.”

“Hear me out,” Kenny said, sitting back up, making sure that Butters kept looking at him. He knew that he would probably just forget what he was about to tell him after he died again, but, at least for the moment, he thought it might make him feel better. “I can't die. That's my power. Even if you let that car hit me, I would've just woken up again in my bed later, and you would've forgotten about it. I would still remember, but you wouldn't remember me dying.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

Yeah. That was what he'd been hoping.

“I'm not making it up. I don't know why people are always dying around you like that, but I know that I can't die because my parents made a pact with the cult of Cthulhu. It's weird. Yeah.” He stared off into the distance. “Anyway, once I die again, you'll probably forget about me telling you this, so just hold onto it for now, okay? No matter what bad things happen around you, at least I'll always come back. I'll be here.”

Weird. For the first time, he realized that his power might be useful for someone. He never thought that there would be someone suffering from a similar yet nearly opposite affliction. He wouldn't have been surprised if Butters' parents were a part of that cult at one point or another too. Butters really got the short end of the stick if that were the case, though. A power like his own was more suited to someone as accident-prone as Butters.

...Thinking about it that way put a bad taste in his mouth. There was something reassuring yet very distressing about knowing that other people would die and stay dead. He didn't want to think about Butters dying.

If Cartman died, would he care...?

It was hard to say.

Maybe for a second. Things would be quieter without somebody like him around, but he'd get over it and go on with his life. His life would probably be better without Cartman and the others in it, anyway.

Butters was just harmless, though. Losing someone like that wouldn't be nice.

So maybe he cared about him a little. If he had to rank the people of South Park, maybe Butters would've had a nice place somewhere at the top of the list.

“I wish I could prove it to you,” he said, laughing wistfully, “but I already tried that once and all I proved was that nobody would remember that I tried to prove it.”

Finally, Butters seemed to relax a bit, letting go of his knees. “I wouldn't want you to prove it, anyway. The only way you could prove that is if you died and I don't want you to die, Kenny. That'd be awful. I bet dying must hurt a lot.”

“You believe me?”

“Well, yeah. Of course,” Butters said, giving him one of those whimsical smiles. “You're a nice guy, Ken. I don't think you've ever tried to trick me. Even if you're just saying that stuff to make me feel better right now, I think it's real sweet of you, so I'll take your word for it.”

Kenny wasn't sure why he was surprised, seeing as how Butters was the most gullible kid in town. He probably could've told him anything and he would've believed him. But even Butters had admitted that even if it were a trick, he would've believed him because it was _him._ For some reason, that trust made Kenny's chest feel tight.

“Butters,” he said, placing a hand on his head. “You're my friend.”

For a moment, Butters stared at him, gaping. Then a brilliant, wide smile spread across his face. He looked so happy.

“You mean it, Ken? It's official? I'm your friend? I mean – you're _my_ friend? Is that how it works?”

“That's how it works,” Kenny sighed, smiling to himself as he fell back, laying half in the snow across Butters' front lawn, his head cushioned by his hood. A second later, he was joined by Butters who laid next to him on his side. He was really close, his smile right up in his face. Without a coat on, wearing only one of his thin, blue shirts, the cold snow got to him quickly and made his teeth chatter. “Go back inside. You're gonna catch a cold like that. I don't want you dying on me because of something dumb.”

“B-but they won't let me back in until I'm not depressed anymore,” Butters said, wrapping his arms around himself.

“You don't look very depressed to me,” Kenny said, reaching over to pinch his nose.

“Then maybe they'll let me back in for a sec to get a coat,” Butters said nasally, laughing.

It really had been quite a while since they played heroes and villains. He'd almost forgotten how rewarding it felt to be the reason for someone else's smile. Even if he wasn't wearing a mask, it felt like another job well done for Mysterion.

After about five exhausting minutes of Butters knocking on the door, begging to be let back in for just a second, his mother was the one who finally opened the door for him. While she waited for him to retrieve his coat, she stood at the open door, giving Kenny a skeptical look, judging him. If they were so determined to make Butters get out and 'play' with other kids, then they had to at least let him make friends on his own.

Kenny knew he wasn't their first choice. He wasn't even his own first choice for Butters, but he was better than the other candidates their God forsaken town had to offer.

 

Once Butters had his coat, they decided to go have a walk around town. Butters' parents had looked reluctant as they watched them leave together, but Kenny could guarantee that he'd treat him better and keep him safer than anyone else. Not that they cared.

Sometimes it sucked not having a cellphone, but it also meant that the others couldn't bother him while he was away from home. Butters was more than willing to follow him around and do whatever he suggested. They had complete freedom; away from their parents, away from the others, away from danger – hopefully.

Even if Butters claimed to be cursed, Kenny never experienced that curse while he was around him. Anything bad that happened around Butters seemed to only occur to other people. If Butters' power was a real, bona fide power like his own, then Kenny suspected that their powers opposed and repelled each other like magnets. It was... Actually, if that were true, it was really great. It would benefit both of them.

While they were walking, he took him around and pointed out the places he liked to go whenever he cut class; the general store, the big lot behind the theatre... Sometimes, he snuck back home and just went to sleep. It was amazing that he hadn't been kicked out of school yet for all the time he missed. He didn't know why he was telling Butters all about it, though. It just felt liberating to tell someone else about all of his secret spots where he went to be alone. If he skipped class once and looked up to find Butters there to join him, he wouldn't have minded.

When Butters' wasn't acting anxious, his presence felt relaxing, like the first drag from a good joint. Sometimes, when he was around him, Kenny could feel a wispy warmth curling inside his chest. Even when he breathed out, it would be there.

As they passed by the coffeehouse, Kenny mentioned how he wished he could go there when he skipped. He couldn't go there unless wanted to get caught by Tweek's parents, but he also didn't have enough expendable cash to be buying coffee. He hadn't mentioned it with any intention in mind, but Butters grabbed him by the arm and took him inside and bought them coffee just so they could sit in the shop for a while and enjoy the warmth. Craig arrived while they were there and sent them a weird look before he went into the back to help Tweek.

Kenny didn't know what that was about.

Butters told him that he felt like a rebel, since his parents didn't normally allow him to have coffee. Going out and having coffee made him feel like a grown up. It was kind of sad but cute. Knowing Butters, Kenny realized that he would feel guilty later and confess to his parents that they went for coffee, then get grounded for the next century, so Kenny advised that he keep all the details of their outing to himself. It was bad enough that it sounded like they went on a date.

...The look Craig gave them suddenly made more sense.

He couldn't blame anyone for giving them weird looks since they _were_ a weird pair, but he couldn't help it. He didn't understand it himself. He had no idea he could enjoy hanging out with Butters so much.

If he could figure out how to undo some of the damage Butters' parents had done and teach him a thing or two about living, then there was a chance of Butters becoming the best friend he'd ever had – the only friend he was _safe_ around!

Butters was valuable to him. He was special.

Not knowing whether there were any other people in the world like him, Kenny decided that he needed to make Butters into a permanent friend – like a best friend, except... _closer._

Unfortunately, he didn't know how he was supposed to make him his super friend – unless they got married or something. That sounded like it would be way too much effort. Although, on the other hand, being married to someone like Butters who was honest, hardworking, and who could repel death sounded mighty tempting. Life would be a little easier that way. Still, no matter how rewarding that would be, it was too difficult. He couldn't even remember how he became close friends with Cartman and the others. It just happened, like the others had decided it for him.

Like the others... had decided it... _for him..._

All he had to do was tell Butters to be his boyfriend or whatever. Then they could hang out all the time. Then the others would stop bugging him, and Butters' presence would repel all of the negative forces of the universe away from him as he drew all of the negativity away from Butters. It was flawless. They were a match made in Heaven. Or by demonic forces. Either way.

 

Later on, as they were on their way back home, Kenny saw his opportunity to tell him what he was thinking. However, just as he opened his mouth, Butters spoke instead.

“Hey, Ken,” he said, turning to look at him with a serious look in his eyes as they walked beside each other on the sidewalk. “I had a real good time with you today. It's so great, havin' a friend who won't use me like them other guys do. Even if we didn't do a lot, I felt like today was something really special. So, ah... Gosh.” Stopping, he bashfully toed the snow under his feet. “Uh, let's do this again sometime. If you want.”

Kenny toyed with his hood's drawstrings. “Yeah. Hey, if you want, you could even-”

...What? _'Be my boyfriend'?_ That sounded way gayer than he expected it to. The second he was about to say it, his brain rejected it and his lips refused to say it. He should've given it more thought. It was obviously a dumb idea. He just got so excited about the thought of hanging around with a living danger lightning rod that he hadn't even realized how ridiculous his thinking was. For a while there, he was starting to think like Cartman. He couldn't take advantage of Butters like that.

Besides, being married to Butters would mean he couldn't marry a hot chick with huge tits. ...Unless he moved somewhere where it was cool to be married to more than one person.

That was certainly one way to get away from South Park.

“Uh. Ken?”

Kenny stroked his chin. “Sorry. I'm thinking.”

“O-oh, okay...”

They'd known Butters for almost their entire lives and hadn't managed to fuck things up with him no matter how many times they used and abused him, so Kenny figured he couldn't go wrong, no matter what he chose to do. If he wanted them to hang out together all the time so he could use him to deflect death, he didn't need to tell him to be his boyfriend. That just wasn't necessary. He must've lost his mind if he had been considering something like that.

Once they made it back and were standing in front of Butters' house, Kenny patted him on the arm. “Let's go out,” he said. Immediately, he bit his tongue. “...A-again sometime! Uh- Like you said. Ditto. Let's... Do that again.”

Fuckin' smooth.

Like he hadn't noticed his slip-up, Butters beamed at him and clasped his hands together over his chest happily. “Yeah! I'd really like that. Thanks for going out with me. Um...” He stood there awkwardly wringing his hands, looking like there was something else he wanted to tell him. Quickly, all in one breath, he finished with, “Thank you, see you at school!”

And then he ran up to the door and knocked until his parents let him back inside. They spared Kenny a glance and told him to get lost, and then that was the end of that.

All in all, he wasn't sure what sort of day it was.

Good? Bad?

Mostly, it was strange, but he definitely couldn't call it bad.

As he walked back home with his hands in his pockets, Kenny wondered when he'd turned gay without realizing it.

* * *

He had the whole night to think about it.

Despite how heavily Butters clung to his thoughts, Kenny managed to work his way through the pile of overdue homework that had been accumulating in his room. Knowing that nothing was going to separate his thoughts from Butters seemed to motivate him to get to work, and before he even knew it, he was finished with everything. It gave him a rare sense of accomplishment to put a whole stack of completed papers in his backpack. He always enjoyed the bewildered looks his teachers gave him when he delivered good grades despite his poor attendance.

Half of the time, it wasn't even his fault... It was a heavy piano or a hole in the sidewalk or the flu.

...He preferred the mundane deaths to the creative ones.

In the morning, he prepared something quick for Karen in the kitchen and took a single piece of toast for himself and sat silently at the table as he ate it, his mind still going over the previous day's events. Since she had always been a perceptive girl, Karen could tell that something was the matter, but he tried to assure her that it was nothing. Their parents didn't seem to notice anything different about him, but, then again, they weren't good at noticing things. ...Except for when he wore dresses. They always seemed to notice that for some reason. At least they never bugged him about it.

Holy hell, he was gayer than he thought...

He wondered how long he'd been that way. For as long as he could remember, he liked tits. It was simple. He liked girls. Life was simple that way and he wanted life to be simple.

But he also loved being pretty and he loved it when men complimented him and he always felt comfortable when he was around Butters, and _holy fucking shit._

That morning, face down on the kitchen table, Kenny admitted to himself that he might be a little gay like all of his other friends. It had to be another effect of living in their town. He was at that age of 'self-discovery', but he hadn't thought there was anything left for him to discover. Growing up in South Park, he felt like he'd lived and experienced more than any other kid his age had any right to, but there were clearly still things left to learn.

The answers were resting with Butters; the last place Kenny had expected to look.

Getting closer to Butters was starting to sound like it would be more trouble than it was worth. He thought that he might be the cure for his curse, but it was unreasonable to think that he could hang around him forever – unless he became serious about being _with_ him. The more he thought about it, the harder it was to determine whether he wanted to be with him to use him or if it was because he just... wanted to _be with him._

He was overthinking it. Definitely overthinking it. He didn't think of Butters like that.

It was Butters, after all.

Butters... Who looked good in a dress. Whose smile was like the warm sun on a winter day in the mountains. Whose presence reassured him that there was still hope in Hell.

At the point Karen asked him if he was crying, Kenny grabbed his things and left for school. He hadn't been crying. Some feelings just got caught in his throat and made his eyes water, that was all. With each step he took toward school, though, those stupid feelings began to accumulate, heavier than snow. He wondered if they would suffocate him if he ignored them for long enough.

 

When he entered the classroom, he noticed that Butters was already there, already giving him a big smile. From afar, he also noticed something on his desk; candy, he realized as he got closer. There was no mistaking who it was from, but no one else must've known because some other guys started elbowing him and goading him about a 'secret admirer'.

What did Butters think he was doing, giving him candy?

He wasn't a girl. But... he _was_ a princess, so... It would be okay if he ate a boy's candy, just that once.

Kenny looked over his shoulder at Butters for a second, making sure that he caught his eye as he unwrapped the candy. Mostly, he wanted to eat it before the teacher got there and tried to take it away, but he couldn't stand to not let Butters know that he appreciated the thought.

Eric, Stan, and Kyle weren't there yet. Kenny wasn't worried about them, but the lack of them was what gave him a bad feeling. He hoped that they would stay away for long enough to give him time to figure out what he had going on with Butters.

He wasn't going to avoid him or anything. When their first class ended and they were on their way to the next, he didn't look away as Butters slid up beside him in the hallway to chat. It must not have seemed that strange to anyone else to see them together. They used to talk more in the past, so the kids who knew them from elementary school saw them as an average, familiar sight.

While he retrieved some books from his locker, Butters still going on about something while he half-listened, Kenny became certain that he'd been overthinking it. Whatever was happening – whatever the town made him do, whatever it turned him into – it was like it was all determined. Just like his many deaths, there wasn't a point in fighting it.

And, whatever it was, it didn't feel like a bad thing, so... Maybe it was fine if he didn't fight it.

He didn't want to.

“Right?” Butters asked. When he realized that Kenny hadn't been paying attention, he repeated, “I-I was sayin' how great it is, bein' just us in class. It feels a lot quieter around here without Eric and the others here, y'know? I like them too, but I kinda wish it could be like this more often.”

“I feel you,” Kenny laughed, laying a hand on top of Butters' head.

For some reason, Butters got really red. It probably had something to do with Kenny's hand.

He was so cute, though. Kenny knew that on any other day, he would've pulled his hand away and he might've told him to shoo, but he sort of wanted to keep petting him. Butters was like a small animal – like a rabbit; all fuzzy and adorable, but full of nerves. It didn't seem nice of him to think of another person like that, but Butters did seem to enjoy being pet, so.

The happiness he felt was enough to make him feel suspicious. Whenever he felt like things might be looking up, reality always found a way of reminded him of who he was.

Their next class was quiet too, and he was grateful. As the teacher explained some math thing, Kenny felt his eyes growing heavy. Before he knew it, with his cheek resting in his palm, his eyes had slipped shut. The pen held in his other hand fell out of his loose grip and rolled onto his desk, then onto the floor with a soft clatter. A second later, his eyes snapped open when he felt something lightly poking him in the back, and he turned around to find Butters holding up his dropped pen.

The teacher tapped his chalk against the board and turned around to give him a look. “Stay awake this time, Kenny,” he said. He was about to give him a lecture before something made him stop, drawing his attention away.

Everyone looked toward the classroom door as they heard loud sounds erupting from the hallway.

Butters tugged on the back of Kenny's coat sleeve and looked at him with his brows pinched together in concern. “Well what the heck do you think that was? It was awful loud,” he said, politely trying to keep his voice down.

They heard a voice, clearly calling Kenny's name.

“Shit,” Kenny muttered, tugging on the strings of his hood. He got up and gave Butters another pat on the head. “Stay here. I've got a bad feeling.” Those feelings were almost always on the money, and he didn't want Butters getting involved in whatever Cartman had cooked up this time.

Butters looked like he wanted to insist that he go with him, but he thankfully listened to him and stayed in his seat. He just gave him another worried look and nodded his head. “If they're doing something dangerous, b-be careful, alright?”

“It's fine. Danger finds me. I'd rather go out there and face it than let it get to you.”

He hadn't realized how cool he sounded until he was at the door. Behind him, the teacher was warning him that he should sit back down unless he wanted him to write him up for leaving class without permission. Consequences be damned, he told him he'd be back and went out into the hallway, making sure to close the door behind him.

The commotion and strange noises they heard from inside the classroom made more sense once he was standing on the other side of the door. Stan and Kyle were running down the hall, chasing after Cartman who was riding on – get this – a _tiger_. Kenny had no idea how they managed to get a tiger all the way from South America back to South Park, let alone how they got it into the school, but he had to admit his curiosity. A dumb part of him felt disappointed that he hadn't gone with them.

Just looking at that big cat as it charged wildly down the hallway with Cartman's fat body precariously bucking on its back, though, Kenny had a feeling he knew how he was going to die next.

Cartman clung hard to the tiger, wrapping his arms around its neck to stay on. “Hey, Kenny! Check it out! I found our new school mascot!”

Even if he hadn't gone with them, Kenny immediately understood the kind of thought process that must have resulted in their acquisition of a live tiger.

Cartman was an idiot and a fatass and a fatass idiot, but sometimes his ideas were kind of cool if not executed poorly.

“Maybe you should take that thing outside,” Kenny suggested. Kyle and Stan yelled that they had already been trying to make Cartman go back outside with it. Perhaps the tiger hadn't been a part of their plan, only Cartman's.

Classrooms along the hall began opening their doors, kids curiously poking their heads out to see what the hell was going on. True to their foolish nature, their teachers stepped out into the hall and waved their arms around as they demanded that Cartman get that tiger out of the school, like they thought that exaggerated hand movements were a good idea in front of a tiger.

“But it's our new mascot!” he whined. “Don't you love Tony?”

_Tony?_ How uncreative could he get?

Finally, the tiger slowed, looking tired.

No... Maybe not tired.

From the back of its throat, it emitted a low growl as it stalked toward their teachers. Sweating, realizing that they may have met their match in Eric Cartman and a fucking tiger, the teachers backed away slowly, then dove back into the safety of their classrooms before the tiger had a chance to make them its lunch. There was really nothing to say about the other brilliant children who chose to stay in the hallway and see how the situation unfolded.

Kenny was just glad that Butters was doing as he told him. A poor, defenseless creature like him would've looked like a tasty treat to a ravenous jungle cat.

Even Cartman must have finally realized that he screwed up because he carefully dismounted (read: rolled off the tiger's back like the hopeless, fat sack of shit he was) and shuffled away from it.

There was nothing stopping Kenny from turning around and going back into the classroom himself. It was clear that Cartman had no idea what he was doing with that cat and it definitely wasn't trained to listen to people. He didn't feel like being eaten. He remembered the last few times it happened and it wasn't pleasant. One could say that he disliked it quite greatly.

“I'm letting you guys handle this one,” Kenny said, slowly backing his way toward where he came from.

However, as he should've expected, knowing that ominous feeling, the tiger turned and looked directly at him, its attention drawn by his voice.

“Fuck, come on...”

Kyle and Stan stopped. Everyone stopped.

“Okay, man,” Kyle said quietly. “Just stay really still and the tiger won't-”

What the hell did he think it was? A T. rex? No. It was a _fucking tiger_ , of course it was going to viciously murder him. It didn't matter whether he moved or not. As long as he was present, the cosmos already had it predetermined that he was going to be the one who got eaten by a tiger that day. And fuck it. Absolutely fuck the cosmos for fucking him like that.

Already resigned, aware that it was going to kill him whether he fought it or not, Kenny stood still and let it jump on him. It knocked him down to the floor and immediately went for his neck, but Kenny didn't want it to be lights out that quickly, so he jammed his hand in its mouth, trying to push back its head. He didn't have a lot of experience with tigers, so at least this taught him something; it's not a good idea to stick your hand in a tiger's mouth because its jaws are a lot more powerful than you'd think.

When its jaws snapped, it tore straight through his hand and gored off his thumb. He really hated seeing parts of himself get cut off. It never stopped being unsettling. Those parts of him were supposed to be on his body, not laying strangely on the floor. If the thing had some courtesy, the least it could've done was consume that part of him and not let it go to waste, but no. This tiger seemed to have a personal vendetta against him or something; its eyes wild, its muscles tight, looking like it was being manipulated by the cosmos itself.

“Oh my God, Kenny!” Stan yelled, standing back at a not-so-safe distance. “Dude, it's going to eat Kenny! We've got to get that thing off of him somehow!”

Duh. That was what he was trying to do. He just hadn't realized that a tiger would be so heavy. “Tell everyone else to go back inside their class,” Kenny said, fighting to keep the tiger's jaws away from his face. “Go call the police or find a gun to shoot this thing with – I don't care. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. Just keep it away from everyone else.”

Kyle tugged on the flaps of his hat. “What do you mean, you'll be fine? Kenny, it's eating you! This isn't the time to act like a hero!”

“Yes it is!” he yelled, trying to pull himself up, to look at them. His arms were getting weak. Pretty soon, he wasn't going to be able to hold it off any longer. Its teeth were already through his hand, blood rolling down his torn sleeve, and its claws were deeply embedded in his chest, seconds away from eviscerating him. “I'm the only one who can do this. I'm holding it off.”

Stan couldn't process what he was telling him. “Holding it off...? _Holding it off?_ You're going to die! We need to get help!” He whirled around and pointed at Cartman. “Hey, lard-ass! This is your fault! Your tiger is going to eat Kenny! Go do something about it, already! We're going to stay here and help him.”

Kenny was flattered that they cared, but they were being idiots.

“Get out of here before it turns on you too!” he yelled. “I'm doing this for you! I'll be fine! Just let me die!”

“Th-that doesn't sound fine...” Kyle said. Regardless, he grabbed Stan by the sleeve, giving Kenny one more sympathetic look, and tried to pull him away. Stan resisted, still determined that he could find a way to help him on his own. Seeing his friend getting torn apart by a tiger must've done something to his head.

Predictably, Cartman was already gone. He never really cared... All he cared about were his ideas. Himself. That was all. The cosmos followed that idiot's direction.

Stan managed to break out of Kyle's hold, but it was too late at that point. The claws on his chest sunk in deeper, tearing open the front of his parka, ripping through his flesh from his chest to his hip, scraping over bone with a teeth-grating sound. His insides spilled out of him, warm, and he watched as Stan staggered away, holding a hand to his mouth.

That was pretty rude. Everyone had those things inside of them. He didn't have to act so grossed out.

Well. That was just the bitter, resentful part of him that felt that way. The rational part of him knew that he couldn't blame Stan because no one should ever have to see their own insides like that.

His arms weren't strong enough anymore...

As his strength failed him and his vision became clouded, he heard a new sound. It wasn't the tiger, but it sounded animalistic, like... Like someone was screaming like their own life was in danger.

It sounded familiar...

It was getting hard to see.

He couldn't protect his face anymore. He relaxed his shoulders.

He hoped that Stan and Kyle left like he told them to. He hoped that Cartman had done the right thing for once and told someone about what happened. It would do him good to fess up to one of his mistakes for once.

God, fuck him.

After he told Butters about his power again, he'd really been hoping that Butters would remember. If he forgot about that, then Kenny wondered how much he would forget. Yesterday had been so nice, so peaceful, he hoped that he wouldn't forget about the time they spent together.

Ha... Ah... Its teeth were around his neck. He hoped it would break his neck before it started eating him.

“Bad kitty!”

With a hard, reverberating metal sound, something slammed into the side of the tiger's head, and suddenly it was thrown off of him. With great effort, Kenny tipped his head back and looked up. In his fading vision, he saw Butters standing over him with a bloody fire extinguisher in his hands. He looked different, nothing like the Butters he was used to. It didn't seem right at all to see him like that; face twisted in rage, blood splattered across his cheeks.

Yelling, Butters kept hitting the thing, slamming the extinguisher into its head over and over until Kenny heard the familiar sound of bones crunching. It was obviously dead, but he kept going, screaming and sobbing.

Kenny really didn't want Butters to have to see him like that. Butters was supposed to stay inside the classroom and stay safe... and happy. He wasn't going to remember, either way, which was for the best, but Kenny wished that Butters didn't have to see him dying at all. It wasn't a sight fit for him.

“Bu... tters...” he muttered, blood gushing from his mouth. He couldn't see anymore, which meant that death was just within his reach. Blindly, he lifted a hand... Realizing that he was missing that hand, he lifted the other one and reached out to find Butters' face. Touching his cheek, wiping the blood away, he tried to speak. “It's... fine. Remember what I... said? I'll be... back la... later.”

He heard the fire extinguisher hit the floor beside them and deafly felt one of Butters' hands grasping his. “K-Kenny, you c-can't die! Y-you're m-my f-f-friend,” he cried, hysterical, hiccuping and gasping around each word. “It'll- It'll be fine! See? We just gotta... shove all this back in here...”

Butters must've snapped.

The hand that grasped Kenny's let go as Butters tried to push his insides back into his body with both hands. Kenny flailed his arm, finding where Butters was, and placed his hand over the two that were shoved in his middle, wrapped around his organs. It didn't even hurt anymore, he noticed distantly. His body must've been close to complete shock. It was a wonder that his consciousness hadn't fully departed yet.

“You're... get...ting yourself... dirty...” Kenny said weakly, trying to laugh. “Knock it... off. I promi...se. I... promise...”

Shit, he couldn't speak.

“Promise...?” Butters echoed, confused, dazed.

_I promise._

_I'll come back._

_So don't cry._

Kenny only wished that he had enough strength left to tell him that.

Butters pulled his hands out and held onto Kenny's as the remaining threads tethering his consciousness to his body snapped. As he faded, feeling himself sinking into a hopeless, black disappointment, he heard Butters' voice again, whispering softly, like it was only for him.

“Okay,” he said. “See you later, Kenny.”

* * *

Everything after that was black, like taking a nice, long nap.

Eventually, his consciousness returned to him, gently nudging him awake the way it did in the morning. Hearing the quiet sound of the TV from the living room, he knew it wasn't morning, but he was awake. And he was definitely back in his own room, surrounded by the warmth of his parka, the blankets pulled up around him. Outside his door, he could hear his family walking around. No one was fighting, fortunately. That was good. He hated returning to the sound of his mother and father yelling.

He kept his eyes closed for a few moments longer, thinking back, trying to remember what happened before he blacked out. Sometimes, he woke up without a strong recollection of what happened, but that was usually only the case after sudden deaths. There were times when it happened so quickly, he didn't even have the time to properly register what had killed him. It felt unfair, realizing that there were regular people who probably died that way all the time. It was awful – not the worst – but there was no sense of closure with a death like that.

A tiger. That was what he remembered.

It was one of those 'creative' deaths again. It might've been his dozenth mauling. He really had to start writing them down if he planned on remembering them all – not that he _wanted_ to remember, but it might've proved useful to have a list his could shove in his friends' faces someday, just in case.

He sighed.

It startled someone.

Opening his eyes, annoyed that someone had left the light on, Kenny sat up and found the last person he expected to see waiting there at the edge of his bed. Butters looked at him with distressed eyes, wide and timid, but also full of relief. He was wearing the same thing Kenny saw him in last, meaning, in other words, that there was blood all over him; on his face, in his hair, covering his arms and the front of his shirt. He looked like a mess. It was no wonder he was shivering in fear.

“Butters, uh...” Kenny didn't know what to say. He didn't know why Butters was there, and he didn't know why he was still wearing those clothes or how he could still be covered in his blood – unless it was the tiger's blood. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Me?” Butters asked, teeth chattering. “F-forget about me. I wanna know if _you're_ alright. D-don't you remember any o' what happened at school?”

Of course, but... “Why would you ask me that?”

How much did he remember? And why was he in his room, looking like that?

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Kenny held up a hand before Butters could say anything else that would confuse him. He just woke up, so he wasn't in the right mind for thinking about living and dying and things like that.

“What are you even doing in my house?” he wondered aloud. He felt confused and was becoming more concerned by the second, afraid of why Butters was sitting on his bed, covered in blood. Even if everyone still remembered the tiger, Butters should've gone home and cleaned himself up.

“Okay,” Butters breathed out, repositioning himself, sitting on his knees on the bed. “Alright, I'll start from the beginning, e-even though it's... It's scary and I-I don't wanna think about it...”

What was he saying?

Butters sniffled pitifully and dragged the back of his sleeve across his face to wipe his nose. “Eric Cartman brought a tiger to school. You left the classroom to talk to him about it, I guess. A-anyway, when I went out to see what all the yellin' was about, you were on the ground, getting attacked by it. I-I was so scared, I didn't know what to do. All I could think was 'I gotta help him. I gotta help my friend.' So I went back in the room and I grabbed the heaviest thing I found – the extinguisher from next to the teacher's desk – and I ran back out, a-and I bonked that tiger real good on the head. I-I just wanted to knock it out, honest! I didn't wanna hurt it! But I saw how much you were bleeding, a-and all your inner parts had become outer p-parts, and I...”

“Butters...”

He remembered?

How?

Why?

“I didn't mean to kill it!” he wailed, big, round tears falling down his cheeks. “I was scared! I was trying to help! A-and I was so mad, too... It was because o' me. If I hadn't left the class, you probably wouldn't've been hurt. It's because of this stupid curse of mine, always hurting the people around me.”

Maybe. There was no telling how it worked. There was no telling how Butters' coincidences interacted with his own cursed body that attracted danger and death. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to hang around with Butters, after all.

But he had no way of knowing that for sure yet, and he was positive that he would've died then, whether Butters was there or not.

It disappointed him to think that Butters might not be enough to repel death, but he also didn't care. Because... As much as it hurt to accept it as the truth... Butters was able to remember how he died.

Somehow, Butters remembered.

“That wasn't your fault,” Kenny assured him, pulling back the sheets so he could move and sit next to him. Gently, he placed a hand on his head, the same way he had that afternoon. The way it made Butters' tears falter made Kenny smile. “I told you. I die all the time. Some people literally 'have it coming' and I'm unfortunately one of those people.”

Taking in a deep breath, Butters let it out shakily and collapsed against him, pressing his forehead to Kenny's shoulder. “I was so scared, Kenny...”

“Yeah...” Kenny kept his hand on his head and lightly pet his hair, just doing it, not really thinking about it. “I was kind of hoping you wouldn't have to remember seeing that. I'm sorry.”

“It's not like it's your fault...”

“Let's not blame anyone,” Kenny said, narrowing his eyes as he stared blankly over Butters' shoulder. He didn't want to think about who he should blame. He'd gotten tired of thinking about it. Though, there was a part of him that was always angry, that always wanted to place blame on someone. His parents, Cartman, the guys who went along with him, the teachers, all the other people in town, fuckin' _Cthulhu_ , and himself... If he blamed one, then he had to blame them all. Everyone was a little guilty of his unhappiness.

Not Butters, though. Kenny couldn't remember a time when Butters hurt him, only the opposite. He didn't know why Butters liked him or why he still wanted to be his friend after all the times he sat back and let his friends torment him. It hurt him, thinking of the responsibility he shared, but he was grateful still. Like everything else, it might've been for the best if he didn't question it. The fact that Butters cared and cared enough to remember his suffering was enough for him.

“Is it always like that?” Butters asked quietly, his voice still sounding somewhat timid as he relaxed against him. One of his arms was slowly finding its way around Kenny's waist. “I was on the floor with you in the middle of the hallway. More people started comin' out of their classes to check out what happened, so I looked around, but when I looked back to you, you were gone. There was still blood all over me, though.”

Amused by his rehash of the events that occurred after he died, Kenny sniffed, a smirk widening on his lips. “They must've thought you took out that tiger all by yourself.” He kind of had. Kenny hadn't been able to do much about it.

“So it _is_ like that? Wowie...” Butters shook his head sadly, astonished. “Everybody wanted to talk to me after that. I got called to the principal's office and they wanted to call my parents on account o' how much I was shakin' an' all, but I told them not to. I didn't know what my mom and dad would've done if they saw me lookin' like this.”

“Good point. You look like you murdered somebody. Speaking of that, how'd you get into my room? Did you just knock on our front door and ask to come in? I can't help thinking that my parents would've grabbed a gun if they saw a kid covered in blood standing outside the door.”

Butters paled. “W-well, yeah, of course that's what I did. I couldn't stand being at school, so I left early on my own. I-I guess that counts as s-skipping school, huh?” He smiled slightly at that, like he thought he did something rebellious again. For him, it was. “Nobody would listen to me when I said that you got killed by that tiger. They all looked at me funny and touched my forehead like they thought I was runnin' a fever. S-so yeah. For a bit, I thought I might be going crazy, but I remembered what you told me about you dyin' all the time, so I ran all the way here to your house. Your parents looked awful spooked to see me standing out there in these bloody clothes, but it was like they knew why I was here.”

“...Did you say anything to them?” Kenny asked. He couldn't believe that those two would've let Butters in without question.

He nodded. “Yeah. I just said 'I wanna see Kenny' and they looked at each other like they were both thinkin' about the same thing, and then they let me in and showed me where your room was. It was kinda weird.”

Kenny stayed quiet for a moment, thinking, shocked that they were willing to let someone else in on their cultish secret. Seeing him covered in tiger blood, they must've figured that Butters knew what he was talking about.

“Uh... What did I look like when you got here?” he asked, silently praying that Butters hadn't seen something even stranger that evening.

“Huh? Well, I dunno. You looked younger,” he said, making Kenny sweat. “Y'know. Real refreshed-like.”

Thank God.

Finally feeling relieved, Kenny laid back down, taking Butters down with him. That arm that had snuck around his waist was holding him a bit tighter. Laying next to each other, Butters very close at his side, his head practically on his chest, Kenny realized that the odd feelings he had for him were returning. It wasn't all that odd to him now, considering how Butters was the only person aside from his parents who remembered his death. That was important. The way Butters had looked when he thought he died – that was really important, too.

“I didn't know I had that in me,” Butters said quietly, as if he could read his mind.

Kenny nodded his agreement and pressed his face to the top of Butters' head. “You were brave, Butters. Before you got there, I told everyone else to abandon me so I could hold it off on my own. I didn't care about what happened to me. I've just kind of stopped caring.”

He wondered if Butters understood what he was really saying. He wondered if he knew how he really wanted to finish that.

When he saw him in his blurry vision with that heavy extinguisher raised over his head, wielding an expression he'd never seen on him before, Kenny understood what he felt for Butters. It was the same thing that must have motivated Butters to help him, no matter how futile the situation. He couldn't believe there was someone who felt that passionately about him – someone who was willing to kill a tiger for him. That innocent, wimpy Butters was willing to get his hands dirty for him.

His life was expendable, but, even if it weren't... Even if he would die and stay that way, Kenny had the feeling he would've done the same thing if he saw Butters in trouble.

“I can't believe you really remember,” he muttered, staring up at the ceiling, his fingers idly playing in the hair at the back of Butters' head. “Why? I don't get it. Did you really believe me that much?”

He couldn't think of any other reason why Butters would've remembered. He could've sworn that Butters was there in the past when he told everyone else about what he was like.

“It's cuz you're my friend,” Butters said simply, lifting his chin to look at him. “I knew you wouldn't lie to me. And even if you had lied about it... I really wanted to believe you because I didn't want you to die. I did what you said and I held on real tight to the things you said, hoping you were safe.”

Shit. He got something gay stuck in his eye again. They were watering.

Kenny couldn't help it. He rolled onto his side and put his arms around him, holding Butters tightly, holding him like he was the most precious, important thing in the world.

Maybe he was.

To him, maybe he was.

It was probably easy to be the best thing in the life of someone who had nothing but the worst, but Kenny felt absolutely certain that there was no one kinder, sweeter, or better than Butters. Just as he died and was reborn each day, Butters was continuously crushed and abused, but his kindness could never be destroyed.

Was it selfish if he always wanted to feel that kindness?

Sputtering, his cheek squashed against Kenny's chest, Butters wriggled uncomfortably. “Uh, Ken...?”

“What's wrong with 'Kenny'?”

“You want me to call you Kenny? Everybody calls you Kenny.”

Kenny shook his head, grinning to himself as he sat up and pulled Butters up with him. “It's cuz it sounds cute when you say it.” For good measure, indulging his impulsive side, he grabbed Butters' face and pressed their mouths together. It was firm, but it was only on the lips. Butters had been freaked out enough for one day. It wouldn't have been fair to give him a deep tongue-kiss to top it off.

When he pulled back, Butters looked red, but it didn't seem like he disliked it. “W-well what was that for?” he asked him as he lifted a hand, trying to hide his big smile.

_'Stay like this forever,'_ he wanted to say.

“My thanks.”

**Author's Note:**

> Butters' parents were impressed that he was man enough to fight a tiger. They grounded him anyway.


End file.
